


Settle Down With Me

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Barebacking, Breathplay, Bruises, Comeplay, Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, Marking, Oral Sex, Possessive Behavior, Recreational Drug Use, Riding, Rough Oral Sex, Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-10
Updated: 2015-09-10
Packaged: 2018-04-19 19:47:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4758743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I hope you don't mind that I took some liberties with your prompts. I actually strayed quite a bit but I hope you like it anyway. </p><p>Title by Ed Sheeran.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Settle Down With Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [liyumpeyn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/liyumpeyn/gifts).



> I hope you don't mind that I took some liberties with your prompts. I actually strayed quite a bit but I hope you like it anyway. 
> 
> Title by Ed Sheeran.

There’s a breeze coming in through the open balcony doors where the gauzy curtains flutter into the evening, the lights from below peeking through. The room smells of weed and cold chips, a room service trolley abandoned by the bed. 

There’s a hit or two left on the joint and Zayn’s got another he plans on saving for later, when Niall’s gone all boneless and pliant and pink all over. 

“You want the last?” Zayn offers the joint to Niall and he takes it, reaching across from the bed to where Zayn’s sprawled in the armchair by the open doors.

Zayn’s feet are bare but otherwise he’s in the same pair of black jeans and screen printed shirt they went out in.

Niall’s in his pants, thin white briefs that do nothing to hide how hard he is. He stripped down to his underwear the minute they stepped into the hotel room, his cheeks pink from alcohol and rubbing himself against Zayn in the lift.

It doesn’t take Niall much to get worked up but Zayn spent an evening teasing him, dragging him around Crete, pressing his lips to the curve of his ear to whisper to him, keep a possessive hand low on the small of his back beneath his shirt, a wordless reminder. They aren’t hiding anymore and the thought that they could get papped at any moment had them both high on adrenaline before the shots had begun.

He knows he could have gotten Niall on his hands and knees straight away, gone easy on him and given him what he wants. But that’s not as much fun as drawing it out, having Niall across from him, painfully turned on but content to wait if it’s what Zayn wants. 

Niall is so completely trusting, willing to do whatever Zayn asks of him. 

Zayn slips lower into the chair, thighs sprawled and hips pushed up to make room for the ache of his cock. He’s got the top button open and nothing else, liking the way it feels to be fully clothed with Niall all but bare before him. Niall’s flush has spread down his throat to his pretty pink nipples, hard from the breeze blowing in off the balcony. 

He watches hungrily as Niall presses the joint between his lips, taking the last hit deep into his lungs before stubbing it out in the glass on the table.

Niall’s hair’s long again, curling around his ears. The blonde is nearly gone these days, just the tips still clinging on. Zayn loves it, how sexy Niall looks with darker hair. Nothing else has changed though and Zayn’s glad for it, glad that after everything between them could move past it and get _here_.

Niall gets up, climbing off the bed and moving toward him with a glint in his eyes and flushed cheeks. Pleasure thrums through him as Niall settles himself in his lap, knees tucked on either side of him. It’s warm in the room despite the open doors and Niall’s overheated, a little sweaty against him, his skin pink everywhere. Zayn sucks in a breath at the press of Niall’s cock against his stomach. Niall settles his arse firmly against Zayn’s half hard cock and rocks forward with a sigh. 

Zayn cups the back of Niall’s neck, fingers curling in his sweat damp hair and brings him forward, letting himself sink deeper into the cushions, Niall’s weight making him harder. Niall’s lips are dry and warm against his and Zayn opens immediately, sucking the smoke into his lungs when Niall exhales. It feels good, the weed buzzing through his blood and his favorite boy in his lap, flushed and always so easy for him. 

Zayn keeps him there, fingers curling in Niall’s hair for the hungry sounds he makes and he slides his free hand down the dip of Niall’s spine where sweat has gathered and his skin is soft and warm. 

Niall’s shifting restlessly in his lap, trying to get the right kind of friction on his cock, trying to get Zayn to take the kiss deeper, always trying to get more, his eager boy. 

When Zayn lets go, Niall’s breathing hard, his lips pink and his cheeks ruddy. His eyes have that hazy look he gets when he’s high but it’s mixed with arousal now, making his eyes look darker, heavy lidded. 

Niall settles back in Zayn’s lap, the brunt of his weight on Zayn’s cock. He palms his cock and Zayn drags his eyes down to where the pink, wet head his poking out of the waist of his pants. 

“Doesn’t take much to get you going, babe, does it?” Zayn feeling turned on, a little lazy with it. There’s no rush - they have two days left and Zayn doesn’t plan on letting Niall out of this room until he’s done all the things he’s spent the last three weeks telling him about over skype calls and in texts when he was bored in an endless string of meetings. 

Niall grins like this is a badge of honor he’s happy to wear and his shoulders go back, small of his back arching, always wanting to put on a show for Zayn. “Just you,” he breathes out with a cheeky little grin as he starts to rub himself through the thin cotton of his underwear. He tilts his head back, eyes slipping closed. For as private as Niall is in public, the things he keeps to himself, he gets off on putting himself on shameless display when it’s just the two of them. He bares himself in every way to Zayn. Zayn can’t get enough. 

“Should I let you get off like this?” Zayn moves both hands to Niall’s hips and tugs him down hard, heat rushing through him as Niall’s bum settles more firmly over his cock. 

“You can, if you want,” Niall mumbles and he’s halfway there already. 

Zayn bites back a smile. Always what _he_ wants. Always so eager to be good for _him._

“And what do you want, hmm?” Zayn leans his head back against the chair to watch Niall. He’s fucking beautiful, the breadth of his shoulders to his tiny waist, the hair beneath his belly button and his tight nipples straining for attention. 

Niall pauses his rock and opens his eyes. “Fuck my mouth,” he says hoarsely, like the idea of it alone has him ready to nut off right here. 

“Yeah?” Zayn says a little breathless that of all the things Niall could ask for, he asks for Zayn’s cock in his mouth, to be on his knees for him. He thumbs Niall’s lower lip where it’s pink and wet. “That’s what you want, is it?” 

Niall makes a needy sound and tries to catch Zayn’s thumb between his lips. Zayn laughs and pushes carefully at his shoulder. “Do you want to be on your knees for me?” 

Zayn watches Niall cup himself between his legs, squeezing his balls like the thought of Zayn facefucking him is almost too much. 

Zayn palms Niall’s cheek and leans forward for a kiss that’s all wet and hungry, Niall panting into it and taking Zayn’s tongue into his mouth, sucking on it like it’s sustenance. 

“Go on then,” Zayn says, breaking away to lean back into the chair, all lazy insolence. He’s feeling playful and painfully turned on and feels a little like teasing Niall, pushing to see just how far he can go. He’s taken Niall pretty close to his limits, and Niall safeworded out once when he was going down to fast, gasping “red” with tears on his cheeks. Zayn’s learned to take him there more slowly now, takes pride in knowing how to get them both where the need to go. They’ve learned a lot from each other in the last year. 

Niall gives him a loaded look and climbs out of his lap, gingerly lowering himself to his knees. He pushes at Zayn’s thighs, frowning when Zayn resists. He raises his eyes up, his face going pink when it dawns on him what Zayn’s waiting for. 

“Please, Zayn,” he says and if this is what he sounds like now, his voice rough from the weed, Zayn can’t wait to hear him beg after he’s had his throat fucked. Niall’s not ashamed to ask for what he wants and when he begs, his voice high and keening, Zayn struggles to keep from giving him everything he wants. 

Zayn lets himself be moved how Niall wants, tugging at his thighs until his hips are lower in the armchair. Niall reaches up for the snap on Zayn’s jeans and Zayn smacks his hand away, biting his lip when Niall moans low. 

“Can I please?” he says imploringly, a little hint of a whine to his voice. Submission comes naturally to Niall but if he’s pushed hard enough, or denied long enough, he gets stroppy, a little sassy and it’s unbearably sexy. 

“Go on,” Zayn says, struggling to keep the smile out of his voice, to keep from showing how much he loves these games they play and the way Niall takes to them so eagerly, so naturally. 

Niall looks triumphant for a quick moment and then it’s determination narrowing his eyes, working Zayn’s fly down over the bulge of his erection and struggling to yank his jeans down his thighs. 

Zayn lets Niall do the work, ridding him of his trousers until he’s left in his thin black pants and his shirt. 

Niall doesn’t hesitate. He drops down and presses his face right to the front of Zayn’s pants, rubbing his mouth and cheek over the hard heat of Zayn’s dick. Zayn shudders, trying to keep his hips still. Niall inhales, breathing him deep, scenting him and it’s fucking erotic. Niall mouths at him and even through the material Zayn can feel how wet Niall’s lips and mouth are, like he’s salivating at the mere thought of Zayn’s cock in his mouth. 

Zayn tugs the waist of his pants down, letting it rest beneath his balls, his cock springing free against his belly. 

Niall makes the hungriest fucking sound and nuzzles his nose in the warm skin of Zayn’s balls, just taking it all in like he doesn’t want to miss a detail. 

Niall gets fucking nasty when he’s horned up, when he’s high, or just when he wants something. Zayn smiles wryly, a little feral, as Niall rubs his mouth all over his prick, getting him wet through the cotton of his pants.

“Zayn,” Niall says voice laced with his thirst for cock in his mouth. Zayn loves all the ways Niall gives himself over to him, but hungry for cock might be his favorite.

Niall mouths at the base of Zayn’s cock getting him wet with his saliva. He looks up at Zayn with his mouth on him, eyes heavy with how turned on he is and the depth of his want. 

“Zayn,” he says. “Can I have your cock?”

Jesus, Zayn’s heard those words dozens of times in the last year since they started doing this and it’s always just as hot as the first time. 

He wraps his fingers around the length of it and holds it out for Niall, feeds it it to him. He’s got a good sized cock. He grew up proud of it, knowing what he was packing. He doesn’t show it off the way Harry does but he’s proud of it just the same. Prouder still of the way Niall can take it now, always a struggle in the beginning until he’s loosened his throat up, relaxed into it, or had three fingers working him open, getting his arse ready for him. Niall likes the stretch of it though. He relishes the work it takes at first and goes all hazy eyed and pink faced when he’s finally taken Zayn deep in his throat or let Zayn all the way in with his hips pressed up against his. 

If Zayn’s being honest, he thrills at the way Niall chokes on him, the way he cries out the first time he pushes in, so fucking tight even after he’s fucked him open on a plug. 

Niall’s eyes slip closed as he takes Zayn in, cheeks going hollow as he sucks his cock like it’s all he’s ever needed. It’s fucking intoxicating to be on the end of Niall’s worship. 

Zayn watches Niall take a deep breath in through his nose and then just go to town, pushing himself down on Zayn’s dick like he doesn’t know his own limits, like he’s not going to come up spluttering and choking, eyes watering. 

He does, though. It takes less than a few seconds for Zayn to hit that barrier, for Niall to gag, spit leaking out of his mouth, tears on his eyelashes. Zayn doesn’t ask if he’s okay or let up, knows that when Niall opens his eyes all he’ll see is pure bliss and the beginning of his slow slide down into subspace. 

Niall pulls off with a gasp to catch his breath and Zayn has to reach down to clamp his fingers tight around the base of his dick or risk coming all over Niall’s pretty bruised mouth. He could maybe go twice tonight, if they stretch it out, but he wants the first time to be in Niall’s arse with him on his hands and knees, struggling to take him all and close to crying with how turned on he is and how badly he wants it. 

Zayn pushes Niall’s hair off his flushed face and lets him set the pace. He watches Niall intently, every tick of his jaw, every breath in he takes. Niall keeps his eyes open this time and goes down too fast but doesn’t let up like the first time, just keeps going. 

Zayn doesn’t get rough all that often, that’s not the biggest part of what they do together, but occasionally Niall begs him for it. Now, though, the weed in his blood and Niall on his knees literally gagging for his cock makes him want to add a little sting to it. He tangles his fingers in Niall’s hair and tugs just a little, hissing when he’s rewarded with the vibrations of Niall moaning around him, the shudder that goes through him. 

He keeps his hand tight on Niall’s hair and uses his free hand to touch Niall’s cheek where he can feel the shape of himself stretching Niall, his skin warm to the touch. Niall moans again and goes deeper, swallowing even as he chokes himself, and Zayn touches his throat and wants to squeeze. Not enough to hurt. Never enough to hurt. Just enough to see Niall’s eyes go wide and his face turn pink.

Zayn glances down where Niall’s gripping himself, a hand pushed into his pants. He’s rough with himself, likes it to hurt a bit when it’s his hand on his cock. Zayn can see it leaking steadily, strings of pre-come dripping from it. It’s fucking obscene how much Niall loves this. 

“Look at you,” Zayn says, unable to help himself. He knows what to say, a little shaming going a long way to get Niall there. “You can’t get enough, can you babe? Always so eager for me.” 

He keeps his eyes on Niall, on the pink stretch of his lips around him, on his eyes where he’s starting to look like he’s a thousand miles away, ready to float away. 

“Are you going to come like this? My little slag.” He touches his thumb to the corner of Niall’s mouth where he knows his lips must be sore. “If you come before I do, it’s going to hurt when I fuck you.” 

Niall’s eyes go wide and he chokes, shoulders hunching as he comes just like that, fingers squeezing around himself, mouth and chin a fucking mess with spit and Zayn’s pre-come. 

Zayn pulls himself free as Niall loses it, belly going concave, body wracked with shudders. 

He sinks to his knees as Niall starts to come down from the force of his orgasm, still trembling a little when Zayn wraps an arm around his tiny little waist and brings him close. He’s still rock hard, cock smearing slick against Niall’s stomach, and he could use Niall to bring himself off but he knows what Niall wants. Fuck, he knows what _he_ wants and it isn’t getting off like this. 

Zayn pulls back. Niall’s a mess. His chin is soaked with his spit and his mouth looks sore, like a tender bruise. Zayn kisses him there, at the wet center of his lips where he tastes like sex. Niall’s still cranked up to eleven despite having just come so hard he’s still trembling through it, and he sucks hard at Zayn’s tongue, arms coming up around his shoulders to cling to him. 

Zayn slides a hand between them and grips Niall through his ruined pants where he’s soaked through with come and sweat and squeezes a little to hear Niall moan. Niall’s got a masochistic side to him, likes things to hurt a bit and Zayn loves to indulge him. 

“Do you want to get fucked?” Zayn asks against Niall’s mouth as he feels Niall’s body straining, trying to get hard again too quickly. 

Niall huffs a laugh and rocks his hips forward. “What do you think?” 

Zayn gives Niall a pinch, hard on the inside of his thigh. “Manners,” he says mildly, trying to hide his smile. They slip so seamlessly in and out of this dynamic where Zayn’s in charge, sometimes playful and sometimes a little nasty. Niall pushes back occasionally when he wants something more, when he wants it a little rougher, a little more pain. 

Zayn catches Niall’s bottom lip between his teeth and bites down just enough to sting. Zayn gets the need, every now and then, to leave his mark on Niall. They spend a lot of time apart now that Zayn’s gone solo and Niall’s trying to get his pet project off the ground. He gets the urge to suck bruises to Niall’s pale skin where anyone could see, a bite at the hollow of his throat or the soft flesh of belly. Niall doesn’t stop him. 

“Shit,” Niall hisses when Zayn drags his mouth down his jaw and bites him hard, where his skin is soft and tender. His fingers press bruises of their own into Zayn’s shoulder and he arches his throat, letting Zayn take what he wants. Niall doesn’t deny him anything and it makes Zayn want to give him _everything_. 

When the weekend is over Niall will be back in Ireland and Zayn will be on the other side of the world. Zayn sucks hard, hot need curling in his stomach, making him want to brand Niall in other ways. 

He lets go and gets abruptly to his feet, pulling Niall up with him. “Get on the bed,” he says. He wraps his hand around himself as Niall settles on his back with his thighs spread wide. He’s got a hand on himself, shoved down his pants, and he’s looking at Zayn like he’s the predator and not the prey. 

“You know that’s mine,” Zayn says casually, setting a knee on the bed and moving until he’s between Niall’s splayed thighs. He wraps his fingers in a vise around Niall’s wrist and pulls his hand away. His fingers are covered in his jizz. 

“Sorry,” Niall says with a breathless laugh that means he’s anything but. It shifts to a low groan as Zayn mouths at Niall’s fingers, sucking two between his lips. 

“Jesus, Zayn.”

“You taste good, babe,” Zayn says roughly. He likes the way Niall turns pink when Zayn says things like that to him, a mix of pleasure and embarrassment. Zayn still finds it endearing that Niall gets pink faced at the dirty talk when he’s had Zayn’s cock in his throat and his come on his eyelashes. 

Zayn tugs Niall’s pants down his thighs and spreads him wide. He’s got come cooling on his cock and balls, matted in the hair around the base. Zayn ducks down and mouths at him, just a quick taste and then he’s leaning up over him to feed Niall the taste of his own come. 

Niall shoves a hand into Zayn’s hair and holds on. His hips come up off the bed and he wraps a leg around Zayn’s thigh, clinging like he’s trying to climb inside Zayn.

Zayn indulges in a little frantic, breathless snogging. He ruts his hips down hard, rubbing himself against Niall, his cock sensitive against the friction of Niall’s pants. Niall’s skin is sweat damp against his, their bellies pressed up together. 

Zayn gets a hand between them and fumbles Niall’s pants down until his cock springs up and Zayn feels his balls tighten up from the heat and pleasure of Niall’s cock against his, slick with his come and sweat. 

He hitches Niall’s leg up higher and reaches down to press two fingers to Niall’s hole, rubbing the pads against where he’s super sensitive. He feels Niall go tense, instinctively, before he relaxes visibly, his hole going slack to let Zayn in. 

The last thing Zayn wants to do is stop but as much as he might want to, he can’t fuck Niall dry. They tried it once when they were both frantic to fuck and it had been less than sexy. 

He breaks the kiss, breathing hard, and untangles himself from Niall. “Don’t move,” he says, and climbs off the bed. 

He goes into the bathroom, stark naked, his rock hard and leaking. 

He hasn’t been with anyone since that first time with Niall, the first time they saw each other after Zayn left them in Manila. They’d fought, loud like Niall never gets, his hurt bleeding out of him like he’d been split wide open, and afterwards when they were shame faced and apologetic, Zayn took him to bed. 

The condom conversation happened six months later when they’d spent three days holed up in Los Angeles at Zayn’s new place and Niall had cautiously asked what they were doing, if this was going anywhere. 

They’ve gone bare since then. He likes it best bare when he can feel every ounce of Niall rippling against him, the way he tightens up around him, squeezing like a vise, when he comes. 

He grabs the well used bottle of lube and goes back into the bedroom to find Niall both feet flat on the bed and two fingers in his arse, fucking himself open with little finesse and a lot of urgency. 

Zayn stands in the doorway just watching him. Niall is completely shameless in the moment, unaware of how obscene he looks with his skin pink and sticky, his tight little body making Zayn want to completely wreck him. 

Zayn wants Niall on his lap tonight, for this first time. Maybe later, after they smoke the second joint and they’re sleepy and high, he’ll spread him out, lick him open and fuck him on his back with his legs bent to his ears, hard enough to rock the bed. 

He eyes the chair by the open balcony doors. “What do you think?” He looks over at Niall, who’s watching him, two fingers still in his arse, an arm folded beneath his head. His eyes are heavy lidded and hazy and his breathing’s gone shallow. “You want to ride me?” 

“Yes,” Niall breathes and scrambles up before Zayn’s gotten halfway across the room. He waits for Zayn to settle himself in the armchair. He’s so hard his balls ache and doesn’t think he’s going to be able to drag this first fuck out very long. 

He makes Niall wait as he gets himself slick with lube, indulging in a few slow strokes that make the heat burn low in his gut. 

“Go on, babe,” he says, tossing the bottle to the floor and widening his legs. 

He watches Niall with his head back against the chair. He’s thin all over from his hips and belly to his legs that he gets so self-conscious about. His cock is the same, slender, a little longer than average, and so lovely like this, so fucking hard against his stomach. 

Niall climbs into the chair and it’s wide enough for Niall’s thighs to slot into place on either side of Zayn’s hips. He braces his weight on his knees as Zayn grips his cock and holds it steady, waiting for Niall to take the lead in this moment. 

The first press of his cock against Niall’s hole makes him curse out loud as Niall bites his lip and shudders. 

He’s gone flushed down to his nipples, his skin breaking out in goosebumps as his body struggles to take Zayn in. He can see the muscles in Niall’s thighs straining, his belly trembling, his cock flexing, still rock hard and dripping with how much he likes the ache of that first fuck in. 

Zayn’s ready to nut off right there, with just the head of his cock stretching Niall wide, the near pained expression on his face that will shift into sheer pleasure in a moment. He lets Niall ease into it until his arse is resting on Zayn’s thighs. 

“Zayn,” Niall mumbles, eyes tightly shut and his hand hovering over his cock, like he wants to touch but can’t. Zayn recognizes the signs, can see how close Niall is to coming before they’ve even gotten started. He fucking loves this, the view of Niall on him. His cock is pink and curved, an angry flush and the kind of hard that looks like it hurts. He can see it dripping wet down onto his stomach. It’s fucking hot how much Niall loves this.

Zayn struggles to hold himself still. He can feel every shift Niall makes, every ripple and flex. There's nothing between them, no latex acting as a barrier and the sensation always stuns Zayn. It’s more intense, every movement Niall makes getting him closer. He can tell when Niall’s adjusted, his hole relaxing around him, and Niall sinks all the way down in a slow glide. 

Niall knows how to work Zayn over good. He knows how to move his hips, arch his back and work his body to drive Zayn out of his fucking mind. Not tonight. Tonight Niall's not in the mood to tease or draw it out. He lifts up on his knees, pulling nearly all the way off. Zayn can feel everything, the slide excruciating. Niall pauses to take a deep, steadying breath and before Zayn can brace himself, Niall sits back down, all the way, taking Zayn deep and _hard_. 

"Fucking Christ, _Niall_ ," Zayn groans. He's going to lose it before he's ready, going to blow his load inside Niall after barely a few minutes and he can't find it in him to care. There's time to draw it out later, to make it last. For now he's more than happy to sit here and let Niall fuck him until they both come. Zayn can feel it building low and hot from somewhere deep, the pleasure rising. 

Niall’s lost in his own head, eyes unfocused as he fucks himself on Zayn, taking what he wants for himself. He makes these rough, needy little noises deep in his throat and lays a palm flat against his stomach. 

Zayn can see him straining for his orgasm, wanting it but not chasing it. He’s waiting for something. 

They’ve done it once or twice and Niall always goes over the edge when his air’s cut off. The first time it scared them both how violently he came and the way he disappeared into himself for a bit afterwards. Sub drop, Zayn’s seen it referred to when he looked into it later. 

They’ve reached a better understanding together since. He reaches up and slips a hand around Niall’s throat, the place between thumb and forefinger framing him, and curls his fingers into Niall’s skin. It’s not tight, not yet. He doesn’t squeeze. It’s a reminder to Niall that it’s there if he wants it and the slight pressure against his windpipe makes Niall’s whole body shudder, his arse clenching deliciously tight around Zayn.

“Yes,” Niall moans with his head back. Zayn releases his grip but leaves his hand on Niall’s chest and Niall takes a shuddering breath and grabs Zayn’s hand, tugs it back against his throat. 

“Do it,” he mumbles. 

Zayn hesitates. There’s so much trust in asking for this. His throat goes tight and he takes a breath and gives Niall what he wants, trusting that Niall will stop him if he needs to. He nudges the heel of his hand right up against Niall’s throat and squeezes tight enough that Niall’s eyes go wide and he lets out a low sound. 

“Is that good?” Zayn doesn’t need an answer, he can see how much Niall likes it. It makes Niall clench up tight around him and makes his body sag like he can’t hold himself up anymore. He watches Niall’s face carefully for cues, lets himself keep the pressure on Niall’s throat for a beat of five and then lets go. 

“Again,” Niall gasps before Zayn’s let him catch his breath. Zayn can see how ready he is to come. He wraps his hand low around the base of Niall’s cock, keeping a firm grip and tightens his hand around Niall’s throat as he starts to wank him quick and steady. 

Niall’s eyes go wide and his body goes impossibly still, tightening up around Zayn like a fist, making it hard to focus for a moment. When Niall comes it’s fucking _beautiful_ , his head falling back, mouth open and his body shaking through it as he comes all over their bellies and Zayn’s hand. 

Niall sags against his chest, face in Zayn’s shoulder and Zayn can feel him struggling to come down. He’s panting and still shaking. Zayn’s so hard, ready to come from watching Niall completely lose it, but for the moment he’s still, waiting for Niall. 

He kisses Niall’s sweat-slick forehead, his cheek, the stubble of his jaw. “That was gorgeous, babe,” he says low against Niall’s skin. He rubs his hand down Niall’s back, fingertips trailing a path down to where he’s still deep inside Niall and touches him there, the stretched skin where he’s sensitive and maybe a little sore. 

Niall sighs and hides his face in the crook of Zayn’s shoulder. “Zayn,” he breathes out and tries to rock his hips, to give Zayn what he needs to get off. But he’s loose limbed and exhausted and Zayn doesn’t need much more than the overheated clench of Niall around him, the soft breaths he takes and the touch of his lips against Zayn’s skin. 

Zayn squeezes his arms tighter around Niall’s waist, bringing him down hard onto his cock. It’s enough to get him there and he comes hot inside Niall, several minutes later as Niall sucks kisses into his skin. 

Later, when Zayn’s lit up the second joint and Niall’s lazily sucking his cock, Zayn traces the faint bruises marking a ring around his throat and thinks, _mine_.


End file.
